Near the German & Swiss borders

August 4, 2015
Kevin

At this point, it's about 4am here in Dublin (meaning 21 hours of being awake and close to 19 hours of travel thus far). I know I haven't written in a while, so I'll try and summarize everything from the last week staying with Melanie [French exchange student at Glenbrook North High School during Kevin's junior year].

I arrived on an afternoon to meet Melanie at the Colmar train station, after a BlaBlaCar from Paris to Strasbourg and a very last minute (yet not at all expensive) TGV to Colmar, and she took me home to re-meet her sister Mathilde and get to know her two friends visiting from Germany for the week.

After putting all of my things down, I joined them on a walking tour throughout a lot of downtown Colmar, which, like many of the towns there in the Alsace region, has strikingly German (and really nice!) architecture, a stark change from Paris and even more so from Dinan. Afterwards, Melanie, her mom, and I drove about half an hour east to the German border and another half hour to Freiburg, where I literally could not understand anything. The city looked really cool, but I've never been so lost in my life. (It's a good thing Melanie's fluent in German, as well.) After walking throughout the city, we met, at the bus station, Lena a girl who was a foreign exchange student in Melanie's group in one of the southern suburbs of Chicago. For the week, she'd stay with us as we traveled, as well.

When we came home, it was a little late, so the seven of us (Melanie, her mom, her sister, her sister's two German friends, Lena, and me) had a late dinner before going to bed. It was definitely a lot more adventurous than I'd imagined for my first day with them.

The next morning, Melanie, Lena, and I drove down to Basel, Switzerland (again, with no border patrol, it was so easy!) to pick up another past foreign exchange student, Vivian, from Taiwan. For the next five hours or so, we walked across nearly all of Basel, and I, once again, understood nothing. But, there was a sign at a small shop for half-priced (nearly expired) craft beers that I managed to make out, which made my dinner for the next three nights significantly better. After touring Basel, we returned to Colmar, where Vivian and Lena slept for a little while in the afternoon, as Melanie and I began preparations for the evening. She'd invited several friends and neighbors to come over for a mini-party, and she needed my help in cooking some German food that I can't pronounce (kind of like pizza, with only a doughy tortilla crust, sour cream, onions, and sliced ham). When they all came over, I had numerous people with whom I could practice my French, and it was a lot of fun.

The next day, we slept a little late (until about 10 or 11 AM), and then we all (Melanie, her mom and sister, her sister's two friends, Lena and Vivian, and me) drove to Strasbourg to traverse the city. We ended up staying there for nearly eight hours, spending an hour or so of that time at a local cafe which served exclusively organic and vegetarian food. (It was great, nonetheless.) At the end of our trip, we dropped off Mathilde's two friends at the bus stop, visited Melanie's grandmother in the suburbs, and journeyed back home to Colmar, two fewer.

The next day, because Mathilde had to get a visa to study in America (She'll be a foreign exchange student in Austin.), her family decided to make it a grand trip to Paris. Her dad drove her, Melanie, Lena, Vivian, and I to Paris, where we walked along the Jardin des Tuileries for a few hours while Mathilde got her visa, and later to a village nearby called Barbizon, where we stayed at a small hotel for the night. In the village, we walked to a nice restaurant, where I was very close to eating lamb brain (I just couldn't do it.), and instead just settled with normal lamb meat, and creme brulee for dessert.

The next day, we traveled to Chateaubleau, a royal castle for the French elite, where we toured for about three hours. At the end of the tour, there was a small orchestra performance of students in American conservatories (Julliard, Oberlin, etc.) next to the gift shop, and I got to sit in the front row! After walking around the castle, we had a picnic in a nearby garden, before beginning our drive back to Colmar. On the way, we stopped in a small medieval town called Langres, but otherwise, we just continued on until Colmar, where we arrived at about 9 at night. Then, more of that German pizza-like food that's really good.

The next morning, it was Melanie's mom's turn to take us traveling (minus Mathilde, who'd gone early that day to Germany, to stay with her friends), For about two hours, we drove to Gerardmer, where we hiked a little, had a small picnic, and met the family of one of Melanie's friends. Afterwards, her friend took us to the center part of town, where we walked around a lot, before paddling in a boat on the lake (pictures should be coming soon.). Then, we went back to her friend's house for a barbecue, which lasted until about 11 PM. Then, we drove to a local bed and breakfast, where we all showered and went to bed very quickly.

The next morning, we hiked along one of the mountains in the area for two or three hours before meeting Melanie's friends at the beach for a swim in the afternoon. It was quite a paradisical final day in France. Late in the afternoon, we began our drive back to Colmar, where we played French music and I read French books, so as to put me in the right mood for my Haverford French Placement Test, which I took right after getting home. Apparently, my eight months of learning really have amounted to something! I'm not completely sure where I'll place, but I have a strong feeling I'll skip straight to Semester 3 or 4, whatever that means. After my test, we had a final dinner, and quite a few drinks for my final night in France, before going to bed.

Since this morning (8 AM on August 4), I've packed, eaten breakfast, driven to Gare Colmar ["gare" = train station], taken the train to Gare Strasbourg, taken the train to Charles de Gaulle airport, taken a plane to Dublin, and waited (A LOT). In about 4.5 hours, I'll be on a plane to Toronto. (Although, I'm really hoping it's oversold. My flight here was oversold, but the next one wasn't until 1 PM, and they, Aer Lingus, wouldn't rearrange my Air Canada tickets, so I couldn't stay the night at CDG for 250 Euros. I'm thinking, I've already been travelling for practically a day, what more do I have to lose in terms of a few hours for several hundred dollars?)

I think, when I arrive at home, I'll be very tired. But, before I go to Haverford, here are the things I've been thinking about eating: a Real Urban Barbecue three meat combo, a double-hamburger from Five Guys, a chocolate fudge brownie milkshake from Steak 'n' Shake (during their happy hour), and orange chicken from Mandar Inn. Those are all foods I just can't really have here, and they're excellent.

Hidden Gems in Paris

July 26, 2015
Kevin

Friday evening I went to a Jazz Club in the Marais, where I was, at first, an audience member of three or four people total, and they were actually really great (female singer, bassist, pianist, drummer), so the small audience made it all the better. Even before the concert, I got to talk with the singer for a few minutes! After about an hour and a half of their performance, there was a bit of a break, followed by a "jam session" with mostly the same musicians and a few here and there from the audience. (At this point, the audience was about 20 people. I guess people in Paris just like showing up late to things.) At the end, I even sang with them, "It Don't Mean a Thing," which was one of the scariest moments of my life--unlike playing for tourists on a popular street of Bordeaux, these people knew exactly what a good or bad musician sounded like, and the pressure definitely mounted. Luckily, everyone was incredibly kind and complimented me a lot!

That night, I found, on the Metro, a sign for a musical instrument museum, something NO TRAVEL ADVISOR EVER said anything about for Paris, so I dropped my plans for visiting art museums and spent six hours yesterday at the music museum. It was amazing. It was also in an area of Paris (Porte de Pantin--I have several photos.) that's off in the northeast corner, far away from everything, yet incredibly nice. I'm really glad I found it before heading out. Afterwards, I went to a picnic and then an Armenian bar with some friends, before heading home for the evening.

http://www.travelsignposts.com/Paris/sightseeing/musee-de-la-musique

This morning, I spent nearly an hour and a half researching the schedule and locations for the Tour de France, and I think I found the best viewing spot in Paris. It's on the southwest corner of Paris, nearly impossible to get to by Metro, and thus, tourists probably won't be flooding that area--they'll wait in the Tuileries Garden or Champs-Elysees, while I'll be very close to the cyclists. After they finish where I am, though, I can probably just take a Metro to Pont Alexandre III and see the rest of the race in a more popular area, as well! I'm well prepared for this.

Beforehand, since I'm going to arrive at Mairie d'Issy in about four hours, I'm going to a linguistics museum (once again, never even heard of) this afternoon. This'll be a really cool way to spend my last day in Paris.

Having Fun in Bretagne

July 19, 2015

Merrill: I just transferred $ to your card. Can you treat the Allains to a lunch or dessert out at a restaurant or cafe?

Kevin: Will do

July 21, 2015

Kevin: Ah, I tried, but Evelyne is very stubborn and doesn't want me to treat them to dinner. I'll see what I can do.

Merrill: Maybe take them out for dessert? or go to the village and buy a pie? 

Kevin: Okay, I'll try. Even the gift I gave them (two large containers of cookies) she found a way to sneak back into my bag when I wasn't home. They're a tricky couple.

July 23, 2015

Kevin

This week in Dinan was really nice! After visiting St. Malo, Dinard and a few towns in between, I mainly stayed in Dinan for the rest of my time. In the house, there was a pool; a garden with lots of fresh, ripe fruits; and internet and TV, for watching French movies and TV shows (often with French subtitles to help) during the evenings. Possibly most importantly, though: I had my own bathroom, my own shower, and my own bedroom; with the Allains, I felt like a king.

On Sunday (I think Sunday? It may have been Saturday.), there was a huge festival for Kiwanis International at the river adjacent to the walled city within Dinan, featuring numerous jouets nautiques, all of which I’d never imagined to even be games, so I’ll try to explain them now:

• The main events were a version of polo, but on row boats (“Water Polo” definitely gives the wrong impression.), on which there would be eight rowers, for on each side, and, at the back of the boat, an elevated, upward-angled plank would host the final member of the team, the one with a huge rod. Two of these boats would come from opposite ends of the river, approaching one another, and would slow down, side-by-side. At the point where the boats would nearly touch sides, the rowers lifted their oars from the water, and the each “fighter” (one at the end of each boat) would use their rods to knock the other into the water. There was some score involved, but I don’t think anyone—including the people from Dinan—understood it. Regardless, this would happen nearly every 10 minutes. (It took a little while to get teams, representing their coastal towns, on and off of the boats.)
• In between the matches were smaller games of raft races, in which two of the rowers from every team in the above game would take to a raft with their oars and race across the river and back. Once again, these games were one team against another. I was really surprised because most people in the audience seemed a tad bored during the larger games, but during these raft races, I heard several screaming women (cheering on their husbands or brothers—there were only about five women out of the 100-some competing) and even more air horns, as opposed to a relative calmness during the larger games.
• In addition, and I’m not even sure how this can even qualify as a jouet nautique, there was a beauty competition for transvestite men, one representing each coastal town taking part in the festival. I’m not sure who won, or how that was determined, but they were dancing by the judges’ booth nearly the entire day.

Later on in the week, I walked all over the town several times; with its medieval architecture, including stone streets, stone buildings, and even stone poles at the edges of streets (to keep cars from parking on the sidewalk, a phenomena that occurs quite frequently here), nearly every step was like walking hundreds of years back in time.

In particular, I walked to the top of the Tour de l'Horloge [clock tower], where I could see nearly all of Dinan, along with several towns and cities on the outskirts of the area; throughout the local basilica, with its wonderful stain-glass windows (I’ve been noticing that a lot of these basilicas have opportunities to buy candles—I think as indulgences?—for several euros; it seems a tad sketchy, but I think that extra money is what pays for all of the upkeep.); in and around the local school, which was hosting a grandiose exposition of local artists’ work; throughout l'Eglise Saint-Malo, which was surprisingly a lot larger and nicer than the local basilica; across several of the shopping areas, both for tourists (selling tee shirts and cookies) and for locals (selling pretty much everything else); and throughout the local castle, which had its own museum, dungeons, and cannon-ball-sized holes at the top. Throughout many of the lower rooms, you could find a few tables holding four or five cannonballs that weren’t glued down or tied down or even guarded, which I thought would be a security issue, until I tried picking one up: the ball, about half of the size of a bowling ball, weighs nearly 100 pounds. If someone were to actually carry one up four flights of stairs just to drop off the side of the castle, I’d say he deserves the extra fun for all of that hard work.

Just outside of the castle is a really large botanical garden, with both several different types of flowers and numerous exotic birds, in little caged huts scattered across the grounds, and a small grazing ground for two goats and a donkey. It was a cool place.

In addition, I met one person who lives in Dinan who, when I told her I was from the suburbs of Chicago, told me all about her foreign exchange there (I think to Marian Catholic High School—still a long while away), and was all the more excited to find an actual Illinoisan in the town of Dinan, where there are pretty much exclusively Dinanais citizens and Parisian, British, Dutch, German, and Italian tourists. To date, she is the second person I’ve met on my trip and the first person I’ve met in France who has eaten a Horseshoe. Still remembering how that to-go box stunk up our car when we went there [Springfield, Illinois], I’m a tad unsure of whether that’s a good thing or not.

[The Horseshoe is an open-faced sandwich originating from Springfield, Illinois. It consists of thick-sliced toasted bread, most often Texas toast, a hamburger patty, French fries, and a "secret" cheese sauce. Common replacements for the hamburger patty include ham, deep fried pork tenderloin, grilled or fried chicken breast, and fried fish fillets.

en.wikipedia.org]

Today, I spent the morning in Rennes, walking around the university and exploring the library, before taking another car to Paris, where I think I’m staying until July 27. (Melanie told me I’d have to come either the 26th or the 27th, so I figured I’d stay the extra day, take a short train to one of the towns neighboring Paris, and watch the Tour de France where it’s a lot less crowded.) My plans for Paris are somewhat unstructured, but I’m assuming I’ll still find a lot to do. Then, I’ll either find a car to Strasbourg and a short train to Colmar, or just a train to Colmar (I’ve become quite good at finding the best deals while I’m here.), where I’ll meet Melanie and spend my last week.

In Midnight in Paris, they go to Monet’s mansion, where they see the real life waterlilies, as well as many of his works; I’ve been trying to find the name of that place for the last week or so, but I can’t even find it in the guidebook. I want to see if I can go there before Monday.

I think that’s all for me. It’s a little strange to think that in just less than two weeks, I’ll already be home, and in just over a month, I’ll already be at Haverford.

So, I think as happy as I am to stay here for the next two weeks learning French, visiting museums, and seeing so much history, I’ll still very much enjoy spending my last three weeks of the summer relaxing and spending time with family and friends.

Later...

Train Plans

Strasbourg -- Charles de Gaulle, Aug. 4:

My old ticket was 2nd class, 75 euro. I just exchanged it for a 55 euro, 1st class ticket.

I'm finally high class!

Waxing Philosophical

July 18, 2015
Kevin

I haven't yet taken many photos of Dinan, only a few of St. Malo when Marilyne took me there. I'll get in the Dinan photos when Marilyne leaves tomorrow, as I'll mostly be on my own for day-plans. I plan to upload my photos of the last week or so today.

I'm in Dinan until July 23, when I leave to Paris for two days, and I leave Paris for Strasbourg on the 25th. Ideally, there will be no more massive schedule changes there, and I'll stay there, as planned, until I leave France. But, I'm prepared for changes, especially since it's usually free, far enough in advance (two days); I've learned that life's just going to throw them my way. I learned that the Tour de France is in Paris on the 26th; I wonder if it's worthwhile to stay and see it?

But, for now, I'm happy just relaxing in Dinan. There's a lot to see (even walking down the neighborhood is incredibly beautiful), and having a bed and a room and a pool and a shower and food and pretty perpetual bathroom access is wonderful.

For most of the time here in the home, though, I'm either eating with the family or talking with them or both, and there are a few ideas I've come to realize (or come to realize were a lot more complex than I'd first imagined).

Organic Food

On the farm, I became pretty used to just believing that eating organic food is better than all else. After all, nearly every input into the foods we eat (pesticides, water, compost, fertilizer, etc.) both affects its nutritional content and its taste, so by giving our foods only the best of inputs, we really do get the best quality of food. After all, even the crab-apples, which we ate at nearly every big meal, tasted like candy, and words cannot describe how amazing those eggs were. Nevertheless, most of my meals on the farm were either bread with jam or butter; couscous, vegetables, and salad; or some sort of combination of those two. Sometimes, when I ate with one of the families, I'd have chicken with bread and cheese, but otherwise, I became a vegetarian (unfortunately). This prompted a new idea: as much as I love organic food, I think I care more about having a healthy variety of foods (including lots of meat), because the mere diversity of inputs into my own digestion would probably be better than the best of inputs from only a few agricultural sectors. (Even eggs were only available two of the seven days.) 

I do say "probably," though, because I'm not a scientist, I practically failed biology, and our (humankind's) knowledge of foods and diets and what is best for us has constantly changed throughout the last 120 years, and what may seem horrible for us (e.g. carbohydrates) may be the only source of energy for our brains. (Maybe it isn't carbohydrates, but something else, instead. Or, maybe, our brains rely on a variety of inputs, but we're still unsure of what they are.) I'm fully aware that I have to take all of my gastronomical contemplations and conclusions with caution, when it comes to what's good for us. Regardless, assuming that a varied diet is good for us, as people, I still wasn't fully satisfied with giving up my hopes for organic food altogether; there has to be some balance, some way to get a variety of food that's all organic (or something), that tastes good, too. 

And, my current thought is this: if I prioritize a healthy variety of food, my second priority needs to be either that it's locally produced (for taste) or of good nutritional quality. (If the soil or whatever near me is bad, I don't feel so horrible about buying imported bananas.) I think that's what a lot of people here believe, too; at any market, be it a small shop in the city or a supermarket in the suburbs, nearly every fruit is from France or Spain, and a lot of it looks really good. They also have eggs and beef and pork and lamb 24/7. It may not be the best for the environment (although, it could be!), but they get excellent food. (The possibly organic, definitely local fruits here taste like candy.) The only sacrifice: while they eat a variety of foods, they don't wholeheartedly contradict the natural calendar of foods; apples aren't too common right now, and we just have to deal. 

I'm not sure how realistic all of my thoughts are about food right now, given that I'm not sure how much money I'm willing to spend in the US (where there really isn't diversified agriculture, like France) for food, and I think I'm still going to eat with my meal plan at Haverford College. Regardless, I firmly believe that contemplating the food we eat will come in handy, somehow, some day.

Politics

To any liberal in America, France seems to be the next step forward, as if Bernie Sanders were to have already won ten years ago and put forth his entire agenda with raging success: there's free college, free healthcare, gay marriage, no gun ownership, and a reasonable campaign finance system. (They obviously have exceptions, like for hunting.) So, in France, people just don't even have to deal with talking about all of that. But, what that means is that they have new battles to fight, facing ideas I've never even thought of before my trip here. 

One example: on my first full day in Paris, I found a rally in front of the Palais du Justice saying that people shouldn't be allowed to pay surrogate parents. That's a big deal here. A lot of couples that can't have children have decided to pay another woman to have their child for them (now that gay marriage is legal, it's become a lot more pressing), and these people were arguing that, because the child would never know its mother, and there's a financial transaction involved, that, ethically, cannot be allowed in such an advanced society. On the other side, I began to think that families may value the child being of their own genetics and may see that as more important to the child's well-being than the child not knowing the woman who birthed them. I'm not sure how many scientific studies there have been on this issue, which makes it all, more or less, a legislative guessing game as to what is best. At the end of the day, though, this 1) may be an issue we'll have to deal with, too, in a few years; and 2) goes beyond our American standardized two-party system: would outlawing this process be more conservative or liberal? Why? What would people even call it? I'm just not sure.

Moreover, in my month here, I've been talking with people about their last president, Nicolas Sarkozy, whom nearly every one of my hosts dubbed a racist. (Apparently, his relationship with Carla Bruni has been destroying her domestic success as a musician, as well, which may show how popular this belief is.) I asked around for a good explanation about how a racist could actually be elected president (even you, Donald Trump.), and what made him really that way? The rough answer: much the same with hard-line conservatives, he doesn't like immigration, because it takes away from domestic jobs, so he wants to stop it all. A little harsh, but not necessarily racist, right? 

But, the discussion goes deeper: in France, there's universal healthcare, which seems to make sense to most people. (Basic healthcare should be a human right; rich people shouldn't be the only ones taken care of, if they develop cancer or diabetes.) It grows more complicated when clandestine immigrants get free healthcare, as well, without putting much into the system. (The same goes for documented immigrants with very low salaries.) The question becomes: how much should the average French citizen be charged in taxes, in order to pay for a flood of people in need of healthcare? It'd almost be like saying that because food and water and homes should be basic human rights, the US should increase its human aid spending 100-fold. Maybe. 

Moreover, if we don't want to increase the actual taxes of French citizens, how much can the richest of the rich actually be taxed? Should economic freedom mean a potentially unlimited income? Should someone, in such a developed country, even be allowed to be a trillionaire, a 500-billionaire, or even a 10-billionaire? It's easy to say that we should be allowed infinite income, because we can somehow relate to those people, even though a salary of less than $20,000 per year is a lot more realistic than one at the other end of the spectrum. Even if we were to say yes to all immigration and take all of the funding that had previously been put towards check-points, deportations, etc., towards universities and small businesses, would the potential for newer markets and greater economic efficiency (ideally leading to new jobs for educated people) counterweight the drag of having so many more people? I'm not sure of my answers to a lot of these questions, and I take secret joy in America's comparative lack in progressiveness, because I don't have to worry about these issues when voting, but they will be the existential questions of my time, I'm sure. The new Great Gatsby will not only strike down the conception of the American Dream, but fight to redefine it altogether. And, I'm not sure to where any of that may lead.

I'm not sure how my answers to the above questions and my conceptions of life in France will change or bring new questions into mind, but there is a world of opportunity in discovering new issues to talk about. Perhaps, we, as a nation, really can let marriage equality, universal healthcare, and an end to flying Confederate flags slide, and we can begin to discuss some of these greater (or at least newer) questions.

The Medieval Town of Dinan

July 17, 2015
Kevin
Dinan is wonderful! It's a small town de les moyenne ages [middle ages], with stone buildings, sidewalks, and streets, and everything looks so beautiful! I arrived yesterday in the evening and walked from the inside of the walled city about 20 minutes to the Allain house. I'll have to take lots of photos, because this is all so incredible: there's a pool, a lot of art (by Evelyne!), and I not only have my own bed, but my own room! These are my best accommodations so far by far, and I'm very happy about it all.

Merrill
Here is a map of Dinan, France. It's on the northern coast of Brittany, the arm of France that extends west into the Atlantic Ocean. Above the Rance River, 22 km south of the coast, Dinan contains many medieval timbered houses, 18th-century granite buildings, a Gothic bridge, a 15th-century Tour de l’Horloge (clock tower) and 11th century town walls. The granite Château (castle) de la Duchesse Anne dates from the 1300-1400's. Kevin is visiting the cousins of my brother-in-law Bob Allain, whose parents were born in France.

Kevin

Last night, I went for a swim in the pool (after which, for the first time, I actually felt clean!), ate dinner with the family, and slept for 12 hours. After spending time with the GBN crew [French students from Kevin's high school] (and seeing more things per day than I'd ever imagined), it was very nice to sleep for an incredibly long time. Even when I woke up, I could tell my body still wanted more sleep.

This morning, I woke up, showered, and found Marilyne at the first floor. To my surprise, she had our entire day planned out--all I had to do was come for the ride! We started off driving to a bakery in Dinan, where we tried some traditional Bretagne foods (various combinations of dough, butter, and sugar); then, we drove to St. Malo, a coastal city, where we had a food of which I'm still not sure the title, but I took a photo, and it was amazing; afterwards, we drove to Dinard, another coastal city, and just walked around the city and the beaches without eating anything. (While Dinan, somewhat, and St. Malo, more, are tourist cities for British people, Parisians flood Dinard in the summer, and the prices skyrocket.) After our three-city adventure, she took me to her apartment in a nearby town, where we ate crepes, and, while she took a sieste [afternoon nap], I watched a French movie (with French subtitles), and slept a little as well.

Later, we arrived back at her parents' house, where I met Cyril and his girlfriend, and we ate lots of grilled meat and toast with various sea foods, and drank lots of wine and cider.

It's been a lot!

About my French: now, especially since the Allains nearly exclusively speak French (I think the only English I heard was when Marilyne mentioned Little Miss Sunshine, and she said the name of the movie.), I can understand about 75% of the conversations. (With the subtitles in French, I have a very good understanding of the movie I watched, if that's a better litmus test.) When there's lots of wine at dinner, though, I generally just stop listening then, and give myself a break.

Soon, I'll publish more photos on Facebook, especially of Dinan. I didn't take many more of Paris, since there's only so much in Paris that's new at every repetition, but Dinan is beautiful! Outside of my bedroom window, for example, I can see the expansive backyard, the neighborhood houses, several hills, farms, and lots of trees! It's a healthy mixture of history, "suburban" life, and the countryside, and it's all so aesthetically incredible.

Museums, Jazz and Friends from Home

July 15, 2015
Kevin
Hey, so, I'm staying in Dinan from July 16 until the 23rd. It's a small city in the northern coast of France, in Bretagne. I'll be with the Allain family (cousins of my Uncle Bob).

Since I left the farm, I stayed with my old hosts in Bordeaux for a few days, mainly spending a lot of the (really hot) days figuring out my new plans, finding transportation options, and ensuring that I'll have places to stay wherever I go. In the evenings, though, I explored several of some of the smaller neighborhoods, as well as even finding a restaurant with a jazz combo performing for three hours (which meant a basic appetizer, a lot of water, and three hours of listening to jazz and reading)! Additionally, each night, I ate gourmet pasta hand-delivered for free by my host, as we'd watch some French movies and some American TV. (He really likes Weeds.) So, my time in Bordeaux was both a really nice transition to regular society again (I could shower every day without instantly becoming dirty, for example.), and a nice place for me to explore, listen to great music, and relax, while still absorbing a new culture.

On Saturday, I used BlaBlaCar to ride-share with someone all the way from Bordeaux to Paris (about a 5-7-hour drive, it seemed), during which I slept a lot, I read a little, and I listened to the driver lecture, in French, about systematic privilege for nearly 45 minutes, to no responses whatsoever from the three other people in the car. It was a tad strange, but I could speak French during the ride, and it was about half of the price of a normal train ticket, which was very nice.

When I arrived in Paris, I met Sushi, my host and friend from Fete de la Musique, when my host then took me to meet all of his friends in an afternoon picnic, and she guided me to her apartment, where we split lunch, I planned a few of the museums I'd want to see, and I could take a moment to rest. (Traveling so much is hard!) Later on, we both went to the market to buy some cider, wine, and sandwiches, and we ate dinner listening to nearby swing music on the Seine.

The next day, I slept a little late and then visited the Carnavalet Museum, about the history--through art and stories--of Paris, and the Petit Palais, an art museum, both for free! I found a site that lets me know which museums in Paris are free on various days, and it definitely made for a fun, free learning experience. After visiting the Petit Palais, it started to rain, so I went back to Sushi's place, and we took the Metro together to her friend's apartment, for a small party to spend the Sunday evening.

On Monday, the only free museums were for Perfume and the Paris equivalent to the DMV, so I strolled across Rive Gauche and the Notre-Dame area for about two to three hours, having breakfast and lunch in the process and listening to a lot of jazz along the way. Afterwards, I walked through a bit of Le Marais and visited the Jewish History Museum, a museum that took about three hours to get through altogether; apparently, they've been here for quite a lot of time, and not everyone has always liked them. Afterwards, I walked along the Seine until I could find some good food, and I had dinner there. Later on, I went over to a really great jazz bar near the Pantheon, with a two-guitar-one-bass combo that was probably one of the best I've ever seen.

The next day was the first of two days I spent with the GBN [Glenbrook North High School] French field trip to Paris. I'd been corresponding with the teacher throughout the summer about my trip to France, and when I found out that we'd have two days in Paris together, before they leave for home and I leave for Dinan, she immediately invited me to tag along with the group! It was definitely incredible to, after a month of not seeing anyone I know, tour the city with some of my high school friends, and for a surprisingly low cost, too! I met them at about 9AM, after which we all traveled to see the Bastille Day Parade, where both the French and Mexican national armies marched, then tour the Marais neighborhood, where we stopped for lunch, then ate ice cream by Notre Dame, then went to a really nice restaurant near the Eiffel Tower (I got the group rate and saved A LOT of money!), then danced at the Firemen's Ball, and then watched fireworks from the Bir-Hakeim Bridge. Afterwards, while their hotel was right there, I needed to walk across about half of Paris just to find a Metro that wasn't completely clogged with people (and a 50-minute wait just to get inside!), and I managed to get to my place around 2AM for a few hours of sleep.

This morning, I met them in the Luxembourg Gardens, to learn Petanque, the national game for old, competitive men, walk through the catacombs--full of six million skulls and several thousand stone placards glorifying death; it was a weird place--and eat lunch and walk around the Latin Quarter. Later, while they were on a private boat cruise, I had dinner near the Eiffel Tower and met them afterwards to climb the Eiffel Tower! Afterwards, I said my goodbyes to friends from Northbrook. Although I'm SO tired, these two days have definitely been some of my favorites; to be able to communicate with people clearly and hang out with people my own age is a nice change!

I think, over the last three nights, I'll have a combined 15-16 hours of sleep. So, I'm going to go to sleep now and pack very early tomorrow morning for Dinan.

Any questions?

Merrill

Want to learn more about BlaBlaCar? Click below to read this article from the New York Times:

BlaBlaCar, a Ride-Sharing Start-Up in Europe, Looks to Expand Its Map

Change of Plans

Wednesday July 8, 2015
Kevin
The organic farming cooperative, Unisvert 2 t'Air (based off of an obscure French pun about being close to the environment), has about 12 constant members, with a rotating schedule of anywhere between 2 and 10 WWOOFers. They do everything from running an escargotier, to raising chickens, to managing numerous vegetable gardens, to baking bread once a week for the local market, to maintaining a fruit tree in downtown St. Gery for the nearby town's populace. Nevertheless, for a cooperative, everything is surprisingly independent; most of the members do their one job (at which they rarely allow an apprentice-WWOOFer) and contribute their specific food, and they stay in their spread-out cabins, otherwise. Unfortunately (or fortunately), it meant several hours each day of me, by myself, reading, playing or listening to music. So, while it was certainly a nice break from the busy pace of traveling across the country, and the people there were extraordinarily considerate, I didn't think I could really gain anything from staying there any longer.

Click here to see where the farm is on the map: https://www.google.fr/maps/place/La+Contie,+24400+Saint-G%C3%A9ry/@44.9803565,0.336349,15z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m2!3m1!1s0x12aacae0196eea23:0xa066519d2f6e4e0?hl=en

One observation I made about the farm was that the people there are exceptionally content living how they do, with internet once a week after a 10km drive to another town and with spending a few hours each day working and several hours each day either sleeping, playing cards, or reading. For me, it was rather intellectually stifling to not constantly expose myself to new ideas and to read the most recent news, and spend so much time on my own, but for them it's just another step in fostering mindfulness.

Also, the people at the farm, even many of the WWOOFers, didn't want to become international musicians, senate majority leaders, or Editors in Chief of The New York Times. They just wanted to live and smile and eat really good food and occasionally go out to see music. Most of them haven't even been to college; they spent a few years after high school backpacking across Europe or Asia or South America and then settled on the farm after realizing that the thing they loved most was centering their lives around food. I'm not sure if I envy that contentedness (or, complacency?), but it was such a pleasant shock to [Chicago] North Shore perception that everyone wants to go to college and get a good job and marry and have kids and die; a lot of people are just playing everything by ear, and they love it.

I'll still miss the two or three late nights of playing guitar by the light of a full moon and a few scented candles with one of the families, but, as Jack Kerouac wrote, "The beauty of things must be that they end." I'll move on, explore, and find equally wonderful--temporary--experiences out here.

Last night, my final night, I was able to join three of the farmers in another farming cooperative about 30km away for a "free jazz" concert of a saxophonist, guitarist, and drummer who could not have POSSIBLY played more loudly for their audience of 20 people (THE WORST MUSIC I'VE EVER HEARD IN MY LIFE. THE SAXOPHONIST KNEW FOUR NOTES AND THEY ALL WERE EITHER INCREDIBLY HIGH OR INCREDIBLY LOW.). After the music, the "concert" turned into more or less a hick party, with no one wearing shoes and everyone drinking a LOT of beer. While the six-hour adventure was a lot of fun, my head definitely hurt a little bit this morning.

Today, upon arriving in Bordeaux, I switched around a few of my train tickets, ate an INCREDIBLE meal at a local restaurant (15 Euro for an appetizer buffet of salmon, ham, egg salad, potatoes au gratin, watermelon, and beets--not having eaten in 15 hours made that appetizer a three-plate endeavor--a main dish of grilled trout, potatoes, and green beans, and a delicious and large creme brulee dessert. I think I'm a master at finding these deals here.). Afterwards, I didn't really feel like walking across town all too much today (The 70km I've walked/ran/biked over the last week has definitely tired me out.), so I returned to the apartment with a hefty doggie bag, grabbed my ukulele and a few coins, and went busking in central Bordeaux! That experience 1) was a lot of fun; 2) made me a lot more confident about performing in front of people; 3) gave me such a greater respect for street performers--it's hard to put yourself in front of people ignorant of any of their judgements, with the exception of a few people who tip; 4) paid for my bread tonight--to go along with the free gourmet pasta (I love my host!)--and covered me for the next time I'll need to use cash. I could see myself doing that again; if I'm going to play music to relax, I might as well get paid for it and make a few people's days better.

I'll be sure to upload photos soon, either today or tomorrow. I slept for about five hours last night, so I'm getting back on a relatively normal schedule.

Food and Wine in Bordeaux

June 30, 2015

Kevin

I hope people enjoy the blog--I probably won't email from tomorrow until July 30, when I arrive at Melanie's (after 12 or so hours of train, train, metro, and train), so they'll have to deal with not having any updates for a long while. Don't worry; I'll be sure to keep a journal. [Merrill: Melanie was a foreign exchange student at Glenbrook North High School last year. She and Kevin became friends through the marching band. Melanie lives with her family in northeast France, near the German border.]

Also, tomorrow, I'll call to let you know that I'm on the farm, safe and sound. If I don't call you, either my phone broke and there aren't any phones anywhere, or something horribly wrong happened. (I'm assuming, though, I'll still be able to work at the farm, I'll still be alive, and everything'll be okay.)

Yesterday, I took the tram to one of the northern neighborhoods of Bordeaux to see a local wine brokerage-turned-museum, where I learned a lot about how wine is made and how it's been sold for the last 1200 years or so. At the end, I got my own personal tasting, as well! I definitely feel a lot more knowledgeable about wine--from the Bordeaux region and beyond.

Then, I took the tram (it's very helpful and inexpensive; I've paid maybe 3 euro over the last few days) over to the Beaux-Arts Museum, which had art from the last millennium or so, from the really old Christian works all the way to Picasso and some weird masks and geometric things I couldn't really understand from the last three decades. There's also a really nice garden separating the two sets of 500 years worth of art. Also, I figured out the ingredient for good art: a huge canvas (life-sized or larger), and a bigger, more obtrusive frame. Think about it, aside from the Mona Lisa, how many small good paintings do you actually remember? Sunday on the Grande Jatte? Water Lilies? Guernica? Yeah, all: NOT SMALL.

Afterwards, I stopped by the apartment, grabbed some of my snacks from my backpack, along with a book and a lot of water (It's been extremely hot here all week.), and went over to the Jardin Publique, a really beautiful botanic garden in one of the northern neighborhoods of Bordeaux, where I could read, eat, drink, and write a few post cards (I just sent them today; they're in god's hands now.). Later, I got some kebabs for dinner and ate in the Place de la Bourse, an intersection of two houses of government in downtown Bordeaux, a shallow water-pool like that in Millennium Park, the river (which is ALWAYS a disgusting shade of brown--not a fun part of this trip), and several gardens, before returning back.

Because my host is such a great chef, my first night, he brought back for me tortellini with duck meat, cheese, and vegetables; my second night, a personally crafted dish of ham, cheese, penne, vegetables, and spices; and I think tonight, chicken in a cream sauce, over linguini, vegetables, and dried tomatoes. Everything he makes is excellent, and he isn't charging me anything! I bought bread for the two of us to eat our late night dinner (which should be arriving soon!), like true Frenchmen.

Today, it was incredibly hot (105 degrees), so I spent most of the day in the apartment, checking my email, reading A LOT of the news, and saying my final goodbyes for the month, but I went out for about five hours, two of which were at a restaurant near the Place de la Bourse, for a four-course, 15.50 euro meal. It began with a never-ending plate of bread. Then, ham pate with greens and pickles. Then, salmon with a cream sauce over potatoes au gratin, with vegetables. Then, a "floating island," which I think is a ball of custard floating in a bowl of egg yolk/wine/something else. The waitress said it was traditional, and it was an excellent ending to one of my best meals so far!

Later, I walked across a few of the shops, since the sales were EXCELLENT. But, I didn't buy anything. Note: French shirts are so painfully without substance that it almost seems ironic to wear them, except people don't wear them ironically. I've seen several with undecipherable English phrases, even more focused on either California, LA, "San Fran," Tokyo, or Miami. Even one that said "According to the US Census Bureau, downtown Miami is one of the most dense urban areas of the United States." I thought it was a joke, and then the person next to me bought it. There was even one with a weird, techno-y drawing of several exotic fruits, along with a line at the bottom of the shirt in French: be sure to eat five servings of fruit each day! I almost bought it, as it was the most cheaply priced (6 euro), but the drawing of the fruits seemed really strange... I can live without it.

Later, I walked to a huge statue/waterfall in Quinconces, which means that I have officially seen EVERYTHING in Bordeaux. I do not feel bad for taking an easy day in the 105-degree weather.

I think that's pretty much all with me. I hope this is a fine ending to this section of the blog, and that my readers aren't too disappointed. In a month, I can give you more material.

Bordeaux-bound

June 27, 2015
Kevin
At my host in Bordeaux. She's very nice, but I'm tired.

June 28, 2015
Kevin
Sorry about the lack of essay-like letters recently. I've been very tired/busy, and the free time at an apartment I've had has been pretty well dedicated to catching up on news (Bernie Sanders is ON FIRE, and gay people can marry now! I should leave the US more often.).

Anyway, this is the chef house! His girlfriend left this morning to see family, and he works from 9 until 0h30 everyday, and I'm patiently awaiting a dish of tortellini, duck meat, and various cheeses. 

My first host, Michael, appreciated [my host gift, matching dish towel and pot holder], but I'm not sure how regularly he'll use it (though, it was folded on his kitchen counter when I left!); my second host, Inti, was still furnishing his apartment, and we used the gifts the entire time I was there; the same with Damien in Marseille; and here, once the current towel is dirty, mine shall be deployed! I don't think most CouchSurfers do this--I've been getting the impression that most people who stay on CouchSurfing are very cheap; a lot of my hosts have complimented me on my not using their home as a free hostel.

Back to three days ago: Notre-Dame [in Marseille] was exactly what I expected it to be, but it gave a really great museum-like explanation of the history of Catholicism in France, which I thought was interesting. The views, as well, from the top of the Basilica--which is already situated atop a mountain overlooking the city--were beautiful, and seemingly endless.

Afterwards, I found--on accident--the Grand Synagogue of Marseille, after which I ate a chicken sandwich on a bagel, as an homage, on my way to the MuCEM, which I think, translated, is Marseille's Museum of European and Mediterranean Civilizations. The really cool thing about museums in this area is that they're LOADED with neolithic artifacts, like arrowheads, for example. That didn't really interest me at the MuCEM, but after another three museums in which full rooms were dedicated to showcasing their collections of thousands of stone tools, it hit me: If I were ever in the forest, I would NEVER be able to make the stone tools that people made for centuries. Imagine being situated in a forest, in which the only things surrounding you are trees, plants, rocks, dirt, and animals that may be either your predators or your prey; the idea of finding two rocks and magically figuring out how to break them so specifically as to carve other rocks overwhelms me. I think we don't give enough credit to the neolithic people. It's pretty simple to code cell phone applications if you have the world's information at your fingertips; to come up with a strategy, in the company of no one, to forge arrowheads from seemingly worthless materials seems like a much harder skill to develop, and a more admirable one, at that.

Aside from the neolithic artifacts at the MuCEM (AND Marseille's other history museum AND the history museum of Aquitaine in Bordeaux), there was a really great exhibit at the MuCEM that discussed how, or if, people of multiple religions and multiple levels of observance to religions traditions can cohabit, using the three Abrahamic religions as a focus. Not only did I learn a lot about each religion, and various figures throughout the last thousand or so years who've learned and studied much about two or three of them, but the structure of the exhibit was incredible! The exhibit was divided into sections, further divided by blocks of informative texts between sets of 10-12 photos, paintings, and drawings, with various scriptural quotes interspersed throughout the entire exhibit. It almost made ME want to work at a museum one day, to explore the methods of teaching information and guiding discussions that they use.

Later, I had tartared salmon for dinner (the only thing I've disliked this entire time), walked along the beach, and saw a super-small (15-20 people in the audience) play at a local comedy club. It was a two-person romantic comedy (all in French) about a couple vacationing in Marseille that discovers throughout the weekend just how much they hate each other's idiosyncrasies, and how they can, eventually, overcome that, too. I think I got about half of it; the other half was just too fast for me to catch on. But, for about three or four minutes the guy actually pulled me into the play, as one of the characters! It was one of the most stressful, fast-paced, and funny moments of my life! Stressful, because I couldn't make ANY mistakes, as to let them catch on that I don't actually know French; fast-paced, because for every single sentence they uttered, I had to quickly search my mind for an applicable response, and the activeness of that made the time seem to speed three- or four-fold; and funny, because they TOTALLY knew I was American, and in a mixture of helping me along, making fun of my lack of knowledge, and continuing the general vibe of the play, the actors were able to work with me, asking me fairly simple questions ("How much does the water cost?") and saving the fast, complex, multi-tense sentences for their talk with each other. It was quite an experience.

The next day, I saw the Marseille History Museum (60,000 years of history in three hours), ate a calamari lunch, and went to the beach, where I found a girl my age selling "artisan ice cream" with whom I could practice my French! Later, Damien came back from sailing early, and we ate pizza and had a beer by the sea just past sunset.

The next day, I learned just how much to trust others when receiving transport advice, and how to call audibles when I deem it appropriate. I left Damien's apartment with all of my things at 11:30 for a 1:18 train, walking about 10 minutes to a bus stop. (The previous day, the lady at the tourism office told me to take a certain bus to the Vieux Port, at which I would get off, find the next metro to the train station, and take that.) Lo and behold, the lady was wrong, and that line of buses wasn't running! So, at 11:55, I'd gotten back to the apartment, where (literally 15 meters away) there was a different bus heading DIRECTLY to the train station. I found it, thanked the driver, and got to the station just in time. No transfers, no multiple passes, no respect for the Marseille tourism office. Unfortunately, the train from Marseille to Bordeaux isn't yet high-speed, so it was about 6 hours long (compared to the 2.5 hours from Paris to Marseille which is also a longer route, distance-wise). It wasn't so bad, though; I had my own seat, I finished The Omnivore's Dilemma, and I began Dorian Gray. I'm now about a quarter of the way through that book.

When I arrived, my hostess (not the chef), took me to the apartment where I'm staying now, and she cooked me a nice meal of shrimp and pasta, before taking me out to downtown Bordeaux, where she felt obliged to borrow my memory card, take a hundred or so photos on her fancy new camera, and give me the memory card for access to all of them. For once, I didn't have to walk around taking photos.

Today, I got a few nice maps from the tourism office, visited the Aquitaine history museum, climbed a local cathedral's bell tower (300 steps and an amazing view!), had WONDERFUL fish soup, walked through the local botanic gardens, had a strange African beef dish that tasted really great but made my stomach hurt, and I will soon have a delicious pasta dish! 

I think that's all for now. On Wednesday, I go to the farm. 

No wonder he's tired

June 25, 2015
Kevin
Saw the Notre-Dame de la Guarde basilique, le Grand Synagogue de Marseille, le MuCEM, et a show at a really small theatre downtown, where I actually got called up on stage!

I'm back at the apartment now, very tired.

Welcome to Marseille!

June 24
Kevin
I'm in Marseille. Everybody's really helpful and nice. Having a problem opening the door, though, to leave the apartment (It's broken, and I forgot how he wanted me to use the tools.). 

45 minutes later:
Wow. That was scary.

I got to Damien's apartment at about 1:15 today, 15 minutes before he went to work. (He's a sailor.) So, he briefly showed me how to lock and unlock the ground-floor-apartment doors, but, when I tried to get out about an hour ago on my own, it didn't work (The door is broken, so the only way to get out would be by using pliers to pull something some way, and it was very hard.).

After calling him, where he couldn't really explain it via phone in English or French, I figured I'd just spend the day in his apartment, unsure of what my other options are. Then, there were three men, all with construction/plumbing/etc. equipment, and I asked them, without actually seeing any of the equipment, just that they were the only ones on the street (This was ALL in French!) to help me open the door from the outside. They struggled, and eventually asked for the keys. I was very hesitant (What a horrible thing to explain to Damien, if things went awry!!), but I gave them the keys. They proceeded to break apart the door handle, enter, and reassemble everything, fixing nearly everything on both sides. And, they waited for me to try opening and closing the door by myself two or three times before they left. I tried compensating them with money or chocolate biscuits I'd bought for the train ride, but they refused to accept anything. They just smiled, said "Bon courage," and went on with their day.

I love Marseille!

I think, now, after such a stressful hour or so, I'm going to head to the beach, relax, and pick up a nice, easy dinner, before returning to the apartment (which I can now open!).

Quite an afternoon.

(Also, just another thing: here, nearly everyone has warned me about pickpockets. That sounds like a bad thing, in theory, but a really comforting one in that EVERYONE is warning me. It's a nice place. Like southern Illinois. Or Ketchikan.)

About 8 hours later:

After that afternoon mishap (Damien has yet to arrive back from work, but I hope he's impressed with the new door handle!), I still had a relatively exciting--and comparatively MUCH less stressful--day. I took an hour or so to change, apply sunscreen, drink water, eat a snack, and relax before going to the beach, Plage des Catalans, literally 100 metres away. There, I waded in the water, spoke French to a few natives around my age, and read a little bit (I'm determined to finish my book, The Omnivore's Dilemma, by the time I arrive on the farm!). Upon my return at around 17h30/18h, I took a shower, changed into nicer clothes, and began my stroll to Le Vieux Port, where I eventually found a French/Italian restaurant selling everything at 20% off (I love Happy Hour!), making the meal SIGNIFICANTLY less expensive than the surrounding diners.

After my leisurely dinner, I found a few off-the-beaten-path hiking trails, including one leading me to the Palais du Pharo, the Marseille government building, which looks EXACTLY like the hotel from The Grand Budapest Hotel. I could watch the sunset over the harbor(s), and it was a really lovely spot! A great backdrop before my return here.

Damien's apartment is really nice--and large, given its prime location. On the bottom floor, I'm sleeping in the "living room," adjacent to the kitchen and the bathroom, while he's in the loft. I have more space here than in my last two hosts' apartments combined! (Reason 1 why I like Marseille SO MUCH MORE than Paris).

Marseille seems to be everything that Paris isn't:

While Paris is known for its pickpocketing, that's probably happened in Marseille only once; now, everyone warns everyone about it, just to be careful.

In Paris, the only natural water isn't even safe for birds to glide upon; in Marseille, I can literally wade anywhere, and if it weren't saltwater, I could probably drink it, too.

No one ever greets anyone else in Paris (You could sit right next to someone on the Metro for 10 minutes and not say a single word.), but in Marseille, everyone talks to everyone. On the bus ride to the apartment from Le Vieux Port, an elderly lady and a mother and daughter talked to me the entire way (in French), and after I got off, the lady walked with me the three blocks from the stop, just to make sure I found the place! Not to mention, strangers literally fixed the door handle for me and refused payment. During dinner, a mother encouraged her seven-year-old to talk to me in English, so he could better practice. Only on my sunset hike, where most people were organized in couples, and it seems to be a nationwide tradition to ALWAYS ignore couples and let them do LITERALLY WHATEVER THEY WANT (In the Luxembourg Garden in Paris, as I walked to the pond, there was a couple of teens making out; when I left, two hours later, they were still kissing!).

Tomorrow, I think I'll probably see a few museums, as well as, potentially, a comedy club. That will be the ultimate test of my French fluency.

(Oh, and the mussels I had the other night were excellent. Regardless of what the food is--even olives--if it's created in France, it's probably wonderful.)

More Museums, Metro and Musique

June 23, 2015
Kevin
Yesterday, the day after Fete de la Musique, was a relaxed one for me. I started off by waking up at about noon, after going to sleep VERY late. 

Then, I took the Metro to the Tuilleries gardens, where I had lunch before visiting the Musee de l'Orangerie. That was a WONDERFUL museum. Very small, it managed to fit in two elipsical rooms wall-papered with Monet's Water Lilies, along with several works from Picasso, Matisse, and numerous other artists (that I actually knew!). There was also a mini-theatre, where I watched a 45-minute documentary on the Water Lilies, as a process and as a permanent exhibit.

Afterwards, while I had hoped to walk around more of central Paris, it was storming incredibly hard. So, I found a nice stationary boat on the Seine that functioned as both a bar and a pizza restaurant. I warmed up, tried my first French coffee, had an Italian-made pizza (I talked to the cook with my minimal Italian.), and later tried a drink called the Diabolo. It's peach-flavored grenadine, lemonade, and ice cubes. But, the word for "ice cubes" is the same as the word for "ice cream" in French; needless to say, after the waiter had given me my diabolo, I was pretty disappointed. (Nevertheless, regardless of the absence of ice cream, it was excellent.)

Later that evening, the sun shone once again, and I took the Metro over to Place de Clichy, near Inti's apartment. On the way between the Metro stop and his place, I found that there was a concert going on; I entered; and, it turned out, it was a HUGE Afro-French Catholic service, with a keyboard, three singers on microphones, two guitarists, and a drummer, along with about 50 people in the audience. After studying in school the spread of the AME, along with the diffusion of culture (especially Afro- culture) in the years since the Colombian Exchange, and the way that Catholicism has permeated various races and classes, it was an incredible sight to see. After about five minutes of looking in, though, one of the ushers walked up to me, greeted me, and invited me to join in. So, I figured, why not? They were singing some poppy-choral version of "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands," but about Jesus and all in French. A lot of really cool things all at once. After that selection, I politely excused myself, explaining that I'd needed to pack my things, and I returned to Inti's place, where I helped to clean up dishes and pack up my things. While I figured we would just go to sleep then, he decided it would be the perfect time for crepes, and now, I can make crepes very well, with nutella, chocolate, or eggs and vegetables. This'll be a good skill at HC, along with my baguette-baking.

Today, I moved back into Michael's place for the day, took the Metro (I think the pay-station was broken, so it was free!) to Musee d'Orsay, and stayed there probably until close to 4 PM. Then, I grabbed a sandwich from a local cafe and an orange from an inexpensive vendor and had a late lunch in the Luxembourg Gardens, after which I read for a little while, as people were sailing ships still in the pond. Later, I got a dinner of mussels, and I walked back for a fairly early night back here at Michael's.

Tomorrow, I leave for Marseille!